Nothing Changes
by Louise Hargadon
Summary: *Re-Post* My first GI fic ever. Set three weeks after the end of the Rescue film. Everyone's struggling to adjust to life back on the island - but someone's having a harder time of it than others...


_**A/N: **My first ever Gilligan's Island fic, featuringmy most-loved pairing - GP. Or, as I like to call them - Pinger! Thank you so much to __**Teobi** for beta-ing and **JWood201** for being so helpful and encouraging in my Gilligan Corruption. Also dedicated with a huge amount of love to Russell Johnson – and to Bob Denver, simply for existing. _

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Gilligan's Island. But if I did, I'd've told the censors exactly what I thought of their daft plan to scrap the blatant MAG and Pinger shipping from the first series. And I'd've written more one-lip kissing scenes for Professor and Ginger! _

**Nothing Changes**

It had been three weeks since _The Minnow II_ had inadvertently returned the castaways to the island. Mr Howell was still pining for Teddy – although he'd inexplicably remembered to bring him on the first three-hour tour, he decided that Teddy would be safer at home this time. How Mr Howell missed his little furry friend! Teddy was a great listener, and he always allowed Mr Howell to be right about everything. That's what friends were for, after all.

It wasn't just Mr Howell that pined to return to civilisation. It wasn't just the lure of Teddy that made 'home' sound so appealing. Everybody missed something. The Skipper, distraught at having missed the mini-skirt, discovered that he'd returned just in time for hot-pants. Leaving them behind, and the legs they may have contained, was quite a wrench. He wouldn't have minded, but even Mary Ann had bizarrely decided to favour trousers over hot-pants on the day of the fateful trip!

Mary Ann missed having a real oven to bake pies in. Mrs Howell missed her breakfast diamonds; a lady was never truly prepared for any eventuality if she was unable to change her diamonds at breakfast. The Professor missed his laboratory – although he was rather glad to be out of the clutches of Miss Ainscough and the cheerleading squad. Gilligan missed foot-long hotdogs – with mustard, and ketchup, and mayonnaise, and onions. Maybe some French fries on the side. Not forgetting ice-cream sundaes.

Ginger missed the movies. She had always missed the movies, ever since they were first stranded on the island. Although at first she had found that movie-making had changed for the worse after she'd returned to acting, she'd grown to love the life of a movie-star just as much as ever, if not more than before.

The thoughts of soft, clean beds, full stomachs, adoring fans, revealing fashion trends, fully-functioning laboratories and stuffed animals were still fresh in everybody's mind. Fifteen years away from all those things had dulled their memories to a large degree. After a while, although they would never admit it to anyone else, some of the castaways had almost forgotten what 'real' life was like, and secretly one or two of them wouldn't have minded if they hadn't been rescued at all.

The fact was – they _had_ been rescued. They _had_ returned to their old lives. They had almost lost touch with each other completely during the ensuing months. It hadn't just been one of Gilligan's dreams, it had been real. Now, they were all back to where they started, stranded on an uncharted island somewhere in the Pacific.

They were all fifteen years older, fifteen years more tired, and fifteen years less capable of starting all over again. Huts needed to be rebuilt. Some of the Professor's inventions that had indubitably contributed to everyone's comfort, providing time-saving devices that enabled the castaways to enjoy the beauty that surrounded them rather than toil over thankless tasks – those, too, would have to be rebuilt. There was so much work to do, so many new and unfulfilled ambitions to grieve the loss of, so little time to sit and mope.

It had been three weeks. Roy Hinkley still had no desire to do _anything_.

He knew why, of course. Not only that, he knew he was overreacting, that even if he wasn't overreacting, it was nothing to do with him anyway. It had just been a flippant, throwaway comment made by Ginger while they were waiting to be rescued.

"_Is acting that strenuous?" he'd asked her, his eyes flickering in confusion._

"_No, but some of the producers are!" she'd replied, glibly._

It had been a joke. It had. Probably. Maybe. Even if it wasn't, why did he care so much? Why had it been the one sentence that had stayed with him? Why not anything else she'd ever said to him? Why did he suddenly feel such a burning hatred to all movie producers?

He knew the answer to all of those questions, too. He was jealous. With those seven little words from Ginger's mouth, he had degenerated into a spitting, snarling, green-eyed monster at the very idea of Ginger with another man. With any man who wasn't him.

He was ashamed of himself. He had no right to feel that way. Yet... he couldn't help himself.

After dinner one evening, the Professor quietly excused himself and set off walking around the island. Mary Ann nudged Gilligan and nodded over to the Professor.

"The Professor looks blue," she told him. He frowned.

"You think he has hypothermia?" he asked, incredulously. Mary Ann laughed. "It's no laughing matter, Mary Ann, hypothermia can be dangerous!" he told her seriously.

"No, Gilligan, I mean he looks sad," she explained.

"You'd look sad too, if you had hypothermia," he answered. Mary Ann found that she couldn't argue with that sort of logic. "Mary Ann?" he asked. Mary Ann looked at him.

"Yes, Gilligan?"

"I don't know what hypothermia is," he confessed, blushing slightly. She beamed at him and couldn't help but giggle.

"Oh, Gilligan! It's like we've never been away from here!" she declared, squeezing his arm affectionately. He smiled contentedly. All thoughts of the Professor, whatever colour he was, quickly vanished when Mary Ann mentioned that she'd baked a pineapple crème pie that morning. If there was one thing Gilligan had definitely missed while they had been away from the island, it had been Mary Ann's pie.

The Professor sat on a large, smooth rock and looked out to sea. There was so much to do. So much to do. They had returned to the island and found nothing about the island had changed – but everything else had. He didn't want to build homes and lives for everyone else again. He wanted to go back to his laboratory and forget about everything.

He shook his head vigorously, trying to get those negative thoughts out of his mind. Everyone was suffering. Nobody was happy to be back on the island. Everyone had other things they wanted to do, places they wanted to see, ambitions they wanted to achieve. Everyone's hopes and dreams had been shattered for a second time. It wasn't all about him. What Ginger did in her private life was nothing to do with him. Nobody wanted to start all over again. It wasn't just the Professor who was fifteen years older than when they'd first been shipwrecked on the island. Even the seemingly ageless Gilligan had looked tired over the preceding few days. His ever-cheerful, ice-melting smile had seemed more forced as he realised how much more work they still needed to do on the island.

"Professor? What are you doing out here by yourself?" he heard a voice ask him. He looked around and his throat instantly dried up when his eyes rested on Ginger in her long, golden dress that accentuated every curve perfectly. Everyone else may have aged by fifteen years, but Ginger seemed to be every bit as stunning as she was the day the Professor had first met her.

"Ginger!" he began, scrambling to his feet. "Uhm... I was just thinking," he told her, not being able to think of a good enough lie. She smiled gently at him and walked towards him.

"Do you mind if I sit and think with you?" she asked. He hesitated for a moment and then nodded.

"Of course you can. I'd be glad of the company," he told her, returning her smile.

They sat next to each other in an awkward silence for a few minutes.

"I saw your latest movie," he told her, suddenly. Ginger looked surprised. Roy Hinkley didn't seem to be the type to go to the movies. Not to see the sort of romantic dramas Ginger starred in, anyway.

"You did?" she asked. He nodded. "What did you think of it?" She had no idea why the Professor's approval for her latest movie mattered so much to her - but it did. His opinion of her had always mattered far more than she ever dared admit, even to herself.

He didn't answer her question immediately, but instead he turned and looked at her. He couldn't help it. She was a person who demanded to be looked at. To be gazed upon. To be adored by millions. She was made to be a movie star. He smiled ruefully at her.

"I was proud," he said. She felt her heart swell a little.

"Proud?" she repeated. He nodded.

"That my friend was doing what she loved best," he explained.

Ginger was officially rendered speechless. She had heard a lot of sweet talk from movie producers and actors and directors. She had been told how beautiful she was, how feisty she was, how talented she was. Nobody had ever told her that they were proud of her before. She knew there had been a reason she had missed the Professor so much. She didn't profess to be the greatest intellectual mind of modern times, but she knew one thing, for an absolute certainty. Roy Hinkley genuinely cared about her. The thing she hadn't been prepared for was the sudden realisation of how much she cared about him.

"I'm sorry we're all stuck out here again, Ginger," he told her. She smiled and squeezed his arm.

"It isn't your fault, Professor," she assured him. "You didn't cause the storm," she reasoned. He let out a breath of laughter and shrugged.

"No. I didn't cause the storm – but I should have reacted better," he told her.

"We all could have tried harder," she reasoned. "It's been a strange few weeks." He sighed and looked away from her.

"I suppose your movie producer friends will be missing you already," he remarked, unable to disguise the slight hint of bitterness in his tone. Ginger tilted her head up towards him, a smile threatening at the corners of her lips.

"Why should they be missing me?" she asked. He shook his head.

"Why shouldn't they?" he answered. She couldn't stop the shout of laughter that forced its way out of her mouth.

"You're jealous!" she realised. His eyes widened in protest.

"I am not jealous!" he argued.

"You're jealous!" she repeated. "You think my whole time has been spent living a glamorous Hollywood lifestyle with actors and producers all falling at my feet, don't you?" she asked. He locked her gaze.

"Hasn't it?" he asked. She shook her head.

"I only wish it had been!" she answered. His eyes flickered and he looked down at the floor. She gently cupped his chin in her hand and turned him to face her. "Why are you jealous, Professor? This isn't like you at all," she told him. He swallowed and tried to look away from her again.

"It's none of my business," he answered, finally breaking away from her grasp. He started walking away from her, his head bowed down remorsefully.

"Professor?" she called after him. He turned back to her.

"Yes, Ginger?" he asked.

"Thank you," she told him. He frowned.

"For what?" he asked. Now it was Ginger's turn to feel slightly awkward and self-conscious. She clasped her hands behind her back, looked at the floor and then slowly looked up at him.

"Just... thank you," she answered, finally. They smiled softly at each other, neither wanting to be the one to finally leave.

Eventually, the Professor cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

"I guess I've got some work to do," he told her, turning around and heading back to the camp.

He was aware of a smile creeping over his face. He could tell there was a definite spring to his step. Suddenly, he couldn't wait to start work on rebuilding their lives together on the island. He chuckled to himself. Everything had changed about their lives while they were back in America – but now they were back home on the island, he was just grateful that nothing had changed at all.

**THE END**


End file.
